If The Pants Don't Fit
by Dyearts
Summary: Hermione Granger is in a tight spot. She's just graduated uni, and these jeggings that were once to die for will probably squeeze the life out of her if she doesn't remove them soon. Enter Draco Malfoy. The brilliant architect of Malfoy Industries. "And anyway, why would you stuff your flesh in clothing that looks like it's about to eat your ass Granger?" Hilariousness ensues.
1. The Beginning of the Quest

**A/N: WOW it feels like it's been years since I've been on here, probably because it has, but NOT the point! Anyway, here's a new story for you all. I'm at break right now so I thought, why not get the pen to paper, or more realistically, get my hands typing. Here it is, and I hope you guys enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. End of story.

**Summary:** Hermione Granger is in a tight spot. She's just graduated uni after studying Journalism (whatever possessed her to do that!) She needs a job, and most importantly these jeggings that were once to die for will probably squeeze the life out of her if she doesn't remove them soon! Enter Draco Malfoy. Yes THE Draco Malfoy (As if there were any others?) The brilliant architect of Malfoy Industries. But wait, what do they have to do with each other? "And anyway, why would you stuff your flesh in clothing that looks like it's about to eat your ass Granger?" Hilariousness ensues.

_**Chapter 1: The Beginning of the Quest**_

"And so begins the quest for a more fulfilling life. When I look at my peers who seem to have their lives figured out, I start to pani-"

UGHHHH. No wait that's not right at all.

Hermione deleted words off her computer screen for the millionth time that day. Whoever said writing a book was easy was obviously very stupid. Wait, did anyone ever really say that though? Maybe I should look that up, she wondered, but then decided against it.

If she had to be really honest with herself, she was just stalling. With good reason though! She was trying to write a book and Merlin knows it's been a bitch since she sat down to start typing at 10 a.m. this morning with a fresh cup of brewed coffee in her favorite Santa mug. Now it's 5 p.m. and she barely even had an introduction. Ha! She barely even had two sentences!

In all fairness, she did write a paragraph of her acknowledgements, in which she thanked her parents and friends of course, but even that left a sour taste in her mouth when she realized she was having such a hard time because of those friends.

The very friends she'd gone to school with, fought Death Eaters and Voldemort and laughed with were stressing her out. They were indirectly forcing her to review her life and her life choices.

They had their lives figured out and were moving on to bigger and better things and she seemed to be stuck in reverse.

First there was Harry and Ginny. After the war, Harry took a year off to relax and enjoy life but of course he's Harry Potter. He couldn't even last a year without adventure, so less than a year after defeating Voldemort, he found himself training to be a full-fledged Auror. At age 18 no less! Now he works at the Ministry, and is not just any Auror, but the head of the Department—and he's only 24.

Ginny on the other hand went on to play Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies after Hogwarts and has since become an international sensation. However, just last week during the Weasley's Sunday brunch, she announced even more stellar news that Harry had proposed, and they would be getting married next June.

Not that the news was a shock for Hermione or anyone for that matter. The entire world knew Harry and Ginny were head over heels with each other and Hermione was just surprised it took this long for them to get married. Even more surprising was that Ginny was not yet pregnant but Hermione had a feeling that would be changing soon.

She sighed. Even Ron had his life figured out.

Yes Ronald Bilius Weasley seems to have his life on track as well. He like Harry became an Auror, and now works in Harry's department. After the war and the brief kiss they shared, they decided to date for a bit.

The relationship fell apart faster than Ron could eat an entire pumpkin pie. They both wanted different things. Hermione wanted to travel for sometime and go to university, leaving the wizarding world for awhile. Ron wanted to be an Auror. They split amicably and not long after, Ron started dating Luna Lovegood. The two make a surprisingly good couple and Hermione expected she would be hearing wedding bells for them soon too.

That left her.

Unlike the rest of her friends, she only had the briefest idea where she wanted to go with her life. One of the lessons she learned from the war was that life was too short. It was definitely too short to immerse herself in books and have her nose sniffing for information all the time. She realized there was so much more about the world that she didn't know. Since age 11, her knowledge of the world had been viewed through the lens of the wizarding world, but not much else. That was why she decided to travel. Of course her parents and friends gave her flack for it, but she was Hermione Granger and once her heart was set on something, there was no stopping her.

She went and came back from her endeavors more in tune with the world but she still wanted more. So she enrolled in University in England and saw less of the wizarding world.

University was amazing though. There were so many things! So many things to do and study and people to meet! People who had no idea she was Hermione Granger. Well, they knew she was Hermione Granger but not _that_ Hermione Granger. They treated her normally. The only problem though was that university had so many things. So many things to do and study!

Hermione was never one to be indecisive but after experiencing all the world had to offer, it was hard to just choose one field for the rest of her life. So she took the Hermione Granger route and studied three. She studied biology, because being a healer had been one of the things she thought she could do once she got back to the wizarding world. She was also hoping she could use her knowledge of the human body to find cures for some dangerous spells. The Cruciatus cusrse needed to be eradicated from existence, need she say more?

She also did criminal justice because she never forgot her roots. The house elves would always be near and dear to her heart. Although S.P.E.W. didn't last long, she would never stand the unfair treatment of those elves or any other magical creatures for that matter.

Her favorite course though was journalism. Not Rita Skeeter's or the Daily Prophet's skewed and misinformed form of journalism, but true journalism. She loved everything about it, from the investigative work, to the interviews, to digging out the truth and bringing it to light for readers to read and absorb. She loved it.

Realistically though, the business was dying. True investigative pieces were hard to find these days and papers were constantly closing in the muggle world. The wizarding papers on the other hand were just a joke, and not just because they hired less than stellar reporters with quick notes or quick quills or whatever to do their writing.

Now what was she left to do? She very well couldn't work for the wizarding papers. Even though working on behalf of magical creatures seemed fulfilling, she also couldn't envision being stuck in those stuffy ministry offices with people who could care less about the state of house elves rights. Being a healer was also her last resort because she wanted to do something she truly loved. While she would enjoy curing people's illnesses, she wasn't sure she loved it enough to devote the rest of her life to it. She also wasn't sure she could handle staring at a patient fresh from the effects of the Cruciatus curse.

So she decided she could do the next best thing to journalism and maybe write a book or something, you know, get some creative juices flowing. Surely many people out there wanted to read about her, so rather than letting them hear it from a second source like a Rita Skeeter wannabe, she decided she would write it herself. Who knew, maybe while digging through her mind for ideas, she could even figure out what else she may want to do…like owning a wine vineyard and making her own cheese…or something. She did love grapes…and the occasional cheese.

Pffftt. Even the book idea was falling apart if the last seven hours of frustration, writing, deleting and scarfing down chocolates to quell the frustration was any indication.

That left her back to square one. No job, no future aspects, but with amazing friends whose lives were clearly on track. So on track, it couldn't be derailed by the fastest bullet train from Japan.

UGHHHHH.

She was Hermione Granger. Hermione bloody Granger! Her life should be the one that was mapped out, plotted, enveloped and starred! That should be her!

UGHHHHH! Screw it, she needed to get some fresh air. Get a couple of groceries. Maybe even a new pair of pants.

Yes pants! She'll do that. There was a 75% off sale on those cool jeggings that's been all the rave this year so maybe she should treat herself.

Maybe I'll even have a better direction for my story or book thing, she thought.

Why didn't I think of this sooner? Other than those delicious chocolates, this was the best idea I've had all day.

* * *

"WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?" Draco barked at— wait what was this guy's name again? Jack…something or another? But what did it matter anyway, the guy was mostly likely getting fired in two point five seconds.

"What kind of a bullshit third quarter report is this? Even my dead gran can see this was half-assed. Is this what I pay you for?"

"S-s-sir I didn't write that report," Jack barely whispered, "Mr. Davies in the finance department did. I-I-I was just dropping it off for him sir."

Leaning back in his chair, Draco picked up the offending folder and threw it back. "Well give it back to Davies and tell him I better see a revision on my desk tomorrow morning, personally delivered, or he can get his ass out of my company."

"Y-y-yes sir," Jack mumbled and all but ran out of the office.

As the door closed, Draco slumped in his chair before running his hands through his immaculate hair. Davies was a dumbass sometimes but even his crappy earnings report couldn't hide the numbers, and right now the numbers were definitely not good.

In the past month, Malfoy Industries had been losing revenue and sales had been down. He'd done his best to suppress the rumors from getting out but he was going to have to come up with a better solution soon lest the company go under and tank. He really couldn't let that happen.

Malfoy Industries was his pride and the only thing he could show to distinguish himself from his tarnished family name. After the war, the Malfoy name was stained and his father's brief stint in Azkaban didn't help matters. He and his mother had barely escaped the prison themselves and as a result, they had to stay low-key for about a year before they could re-emerge in the wizarding world.

Of course that hadn't been a walk in the park either. He had to fight tooth and nail to set up the company, under watchful eye of the Ministry of course. Apparently, being the son of a Death Eater, housing a deranged psychopath with a penchant for killing muggleborns, and almost killing your headmaster didn't mix well for a case on why the ministry should leave you alone.

No matter though, because Draco got the company running in the long run. At the tender age of 20, he started Malfoy Industries, which aimed to provide services of all kind. Their current services though were mostly ripped off the very people he spent almost his entire life despising. It seems muggles did create some clever things.

Now their television was in almost every wizarding household, obviously slightly modified for wizards and witches. And by slightly modified, he meant, changing their names. Those TVs were now known as "Viewers". He didn't want to admit it but their 3D- LCDs were a big hit in the wizarding world. Something about things coming out of people's TVs seemed to utterly captivate people.

Along with that, Draco had acquired companies of all sorts. He had small but significant shares of the Daily Prophet and even Flourish and Blotts. That reminds him, he needed to speak with his biographer soon.

The whole idea of owning a business started with him wanting to change the Malfoy name. There was nothing like having people worship the ground you walked on to becoming a social outcast to wake a young man up. He came from a long line of proud Malfoys and he wouldn't let his father's terrible decision making skills change that. He supposed he was also at fault for believing his father and going along with Voldemort's terrible plans, but he didn't like admitting that very often. Anyway, the times have changed, and Draco was somewhat changed too. After all, he did get his money making product from the muggles. He supposed he could you know…tolerate them.

Their TV contraption idea found him one day during his year as an outcast. He stumbled on a muggle pub while trying to get to the Leaky Cauldron. Mistaking the pub for the Cauldron in his drunken state, he walked in and soon saw the strange contraption the barmen seemed so enraptured with. They were screaming and yelling at the bloody thing and also watching something called "Football".

As the bar girl walked over to him to take his order, he asked her what it was. First, she looked at him funny but then laughed seeing he was drunk. That was the night he discovered television—and incidentally first slept with a muggle girl—and he's never looked back since.

Now though, the glorious company he built seemed to be taking a big hit and he needed to remedy the situation before it all came crumbling down around him.

He was just cementing his name in the history books and it needed to stay that way. He couldn't be the laughing stock of the wizarding world once again. He had to find a way out of this mess before the public found out and the investors started backing out.

Truth be told, even though he could afford to fund the company, having investors helped alleviate the snooping Ministry and made the very people he aimed to serve less skeptical. Evidently having sane people who were willing to risk their money in his business suppressed the fact that he was a former death eater and all that. Naturally, he couldn't lose them and certainly couldn't risk them finding out.

Owning a portion of the Daily Prophet and several publishing companies also had its perks. It meant no snooping journalist to come around and find out their earnings were dipping. It also reduced the risk of having someone from the company sending anonymous tips to people at the paper. It would just get back to him anyway and the person would be terminated. Bloody hell the Daily Prophet was such a joke.

But still, that was the quick fix to his problem. He needed a long term resolution. A new product of some kind. Maybe even a new industry to delve in and sink his teeth into. Maybe the "Viewer" was wearing out its usefulness and it was time to stumble on another muggle contraption.

Draco ran his hands through his head once more as he strode across the room to get his coat. Perhaps it was time to do some snooping on muggle territory again.

But first he needed a drink.

And something with legs that he could bang. Preferably a girl.

**A/N: Well that ends the first chapter. I hope you guys enjoyed it. I challenge you all to try and figure out how our two characters will be interacting in the story, and I'll see if any of your guesses are right. The next update should be coming in the next week so you won't have to wait long! Reviews are always welcome!**


	2. The Mind Blowing Moment

**A/N: Thank you all for your reviews and follows and favs! It makes writing this story that much more worthwhile! Believe me, it definitely makes me update faster so keep them coming! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed (Gingerawesomenes, Anon 3, LittleMissInvisible, and Quirkista). To Anon 3, thanks a lot for that flattering review! I actually don't have a beta, so I have to try extra hard to make this story sound okay! **

**Anyway here's the next chapter! I hope you all enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. End of story.

**Summary:** Hermione Granger is in a tight spot. She's just graduated uni after studying Journalism (whatever possessed her to do that!) She needs a job, and most importantly these jeggings that were once to die for will probably squeeze the life out of her if she doesn't remove them soon! Enter Draco Malfoy. Yes THE Draco Malfoy (As if there were any others?) The brilliant architect of Malfoy Industries. But wait, what do they have to do with each other? "And anyway, why would you stuff your flesh in clothing that looks like it's about to eat your ass Granger?" Hilariousness ensues.

* * *

_**Chapter 2: The Mind-blowing Moment **_

Draco walked slowly down Regent Street, careful not to miss anything. He was keeping his eyes peeled for anything interesting that could produce the next lucrative merchandise. So far, the whole process seemed futile. Then again, he'd only been at it for about ten minutes. That was hardly enough time to find the next million galleon invention.

He kept looking around carefully, trying not to seem too suspicious. He'd already had two middle-aged women stare him down as he passed one of those shops. At first he thought they were leering at him for his delicious good looks, which he of course took pride in.

He tried not to seem too smug about it as he fixed his neck tie, but then one of them came up to him and said, "Can we help you young man? If you stare too hard like that, your eyes just might fall out of their sockets."

To say Draco was hurt would be an understatement. He was horrified, aghast, astounded and every other word that meant shocked. Here he was thinking these two (old) women were marveling at his lusciousness, but they were merely disturbed by the strange face he had apparently been making.

He walked away from them swiftly, muttering some excuse about a headache and his eyes hurting from looking at too many wrinkles. Since then, he'd been cautious about contorting his face into another attraction for old women.

As he continued down the crowded street, his attention was drawn to the crowds. Why were people carrying piles and piles of bags and speed walking anyway? It was like they were all rushing to get to more shops, which seemed like a bad idea to him since some people were obviously swamped to their necks with shopping bags. It then registered that it was the Christmas season and these people were obviously shopping for presents. Draco rolled his eyes. Christmas. What a load of cow dung.

While Draco made the sarcastic remark in his head, he passed a couple carrying one of those huge bags, trying desperately to calm down what looked like a four-year-old girl, presumably their daughter. The girl was crying and sputtering something about a pretent? Prebent? Ohh a present. The mother dug into one of the bags and fetched out a box with what looked like a-blimey, was that a baby in a box?

Draco turned his head back around quickly. No. What kind of a sick joke was this? Was that really a baby held in a box? It was so stiff, and it was staring wide-eyed. What the hell was going on here? Were these muggles seriously housing a baby in a box? How could it breathe…and stuff?

As Draco contemplated the saneness of muggles and looked around to see if anyone was as appalled as he was, he spotted the mother taking out the baby from the box and handing it to the little girl. The girl automatically ceased her incessant crying and started patting the baby—but wait, what was that sound?

The girl squeezed the baby (could you even squeeze a baby like that?) and a sound came out. It sounded like…laughter? What kind of a child was this, laughing when someone squeezed it so hard?

"Do you like your doll?" The mother asked the little girl, and she nodded vigorously. Then it all dawned to Draco. That wasn't a baby in that box. It was a doll...but it looked so real!

He didn't have time to relish the mind blowing moment as the couple finally noticed him watching the little scene they were putting on.

"Can I help you?" The father asked suddenly hiding his wife and little girl behind him.

"Uhh no, I dropped my wan-I mean my watch," Draco caught himself before he let the "w" word slip. He was already in a sticky situation and talking about dropping wands in the presence of muggles would certainly not help.

"Enjoy your day," Draco managed before turning on his heel and briskly walking away.

As he walked off, the light bulb went off inside his head.

That little girl had been crying, relentlessly might he add. The mother took out a baby in a box. She gave it to the girl. The Little girl stopped crying. The baby-in-a-box had stopped the little girl from crying! If a baby doll had stopped a muggle girl from crying, think of all the little witches the doll could make happy as well.

Oh Merlin he had done it! He'd found his next invention. His new advantageous product! The answer to all his woes...well some of it anyway. The best thing was he already had the name and a vision of how to market it.

He could call it a baby-in-a-box. In the advertisements, he could play this little scene that had just unfolded in front of his eyes. The catch-phrase could be "Got a screaming little witch? Give her a baby-in-a-box, it'll shut her right up"—on second thought, maybe he should work on that a bit more.

Anyway, what really mattered was he had a new idea. Malfoy Industries could now dabble in the toy industry as well. What's to say he had to stop at little girls though? He could create products for little boys too! Maybe a fake broomstick of some sort for boys, who couldn't fly on a real broomstick yet. Yes! That was brilliant. He was Draco Malfoy after all, but this time he had really outdone himself.

This whole idea just kept getting better and better and to think he wouldn't be here if he had actually read dumbass Davies' shitty earnings report. He'd found a solution in less than twenty minutes. He didn't want to toot his own horn, but Draco Malfoy was simply a genius.

Now that his work was done, he needed to reward himself, he thought. He realized he was walking past a big shop and looked inside. Inside were mannequins dressed in the latest clothes of the season. Draco stopped and took a look at a male mannequin wearing a dapper crisp white shirt tucked in some black slacks with a sport coat hanging off its shoulder. He definitely liked what he saw.

Random Draco Malfoy fact: He was actually quite fond of muggle clothing and made sure to follow the trends in his spare time. There was so much more diversity in muggle clothing than there was in wizard's robes. He even wore muggle attire under his dress robes. It was just much more comfortable that way.

He didn't hesitate before he barged into the shop to harass a shop assistant about where he could get that mannequin's look.

As he made his way to an assistant, he passed the woman's department. One of the mannequins was wearing a very tight fitting pair of green jean pants labeled "Jeggings". Now that was pants done right, Draco thought as he walked by. He could see all the contours of the mannequin's shape. If it looked that good on a plastic person, imagine how great it would look on a real, breathing woman. It would simply be too enticing.

Dodging where his train of thought was taking him, he found a male shop assistant (not the gender he had in mind) and stopped in front of him.

"Where can I find the clothing items on that mannequin over there," Draco inquired from the assistant.

"Hello sir, do you mean the one over there?" The man pointed to the area Draco had just finish pointing at.

"Yes, precisely that one," He replied trying to keep his impatience out of his voice. Some muggles were so dense.

"Well the articles are all in different places so if you wouldn't mind following me sir, I'll help you find them." But then again, the muggle did make it a habit to call Draco sir so maybe this muggle wasn't _so _dense.

"Alright then, lead the way."

"Well the shirt is by Ralph Lauren and there's an entire section dedicated to Ralph Lauren clothing," the assistant started.

"The particular shirt you're looking for would be in the lounge and leisure section and here we are."

Draco walked up to the racks where the shirts were hanging and surveyed the selection. There was even more there than he anticipated. The shirts came in different colors and designs. One was even in gingham and it was very visually appealing, if he did say so himself.

See, he couldn't get this in wizard's attire. Imagine him with gingham robes. He'd just get laughed at, and most of it would be from his father. This would be the same father that would proceed to make fun of him about it for the rest of his life. He wouldn't care that wizard's robes were just too drab.

He picked up the gingham version of the shirt as well as the white one. Satisfied with his choices, he looked back at the assistant. "Where are the pants then," he inquired.

"The pants are a part of the new line by Kenneth Cole Reaction and are just around the corner." The assistant led him down the aisle passing other designer sections, with equally cool looking outfits. Draco made a mental note to come back when he was less busy to properly buy the entire male department out.

"These are the pants on the model you saw earlier but there are two options of these pants,"

"We have them in the loose fitting kind as well as a more fitted version that goes with the trend we're seeing on the runways this season.

Draco stopped listening at trends. He didn't need to know or hear anymore. The man had him at trends. Draco Malfoy was all about trends. He was also all about wearing trends.

"So where are those?" He asked.

"Those are right there and the sports coat you wanted are next to them, if you want to get those too," the man said gesturing to the next aisle.

Draco strode over to the pants and he had to admit, they looked pretty good even though they were just hanging on hangers. He scooped up two pairs, contemplated on getting a third before he decided two was enough—for now.

He walked over to the sports coat and as he searched for his size (a medium), something moved in his line of vision.

He lifted his head slightly and caught a head of unruly curly brown hair farther down the aisle.

He almost dropped his sports coat.

Almost.

The head disappeared into what looked like a fitting room as he regained his composure.

No. His mind must be playing tricks on him. He did just have a mind blowing moment less than twenty minutes ago.

That baby-in-a-box must have altered his thought process more than he thought.

As he walked to the cashier to pay, he shook the thoughts away.

It couldn't be the insufferable know-it-all bookworm. It just couldn't. There were lots of people walking around London, walking around shops in London more specifically, that had unruly curly brown hair.

It just couldn't be.

But then again, this was a muggle institution. This was her territory after all, her habitat, so maybe it just_ could_.

* * *

Getting off the tube, Hermione felt all her muscles relax as she made her way down the street, marveling at the sights that beheld her.

Merlin, she loved this time of year.

It really was the most wonderful time. There were lights strewn on trees and on shop windows. People hurrying to get their last minute shopping done (she'd finished hers by the end of August), and countless numbers of Father Christmases vying for the best costume.

People also seemed genuinely nicer during this time of year. She supposed it was the Christmas spirit and all-

"Hey Alice, come out of your wonderland and watch where the hell you're bloody going," a scruffy looking man growled at Hermione. She'd accidentally bumped into him during her musings.

"Oh sorry about that,"

"Now come on, bugger off out of my way," he said as he shoved passed her.

Well, how rude!

So much for the Christmas spirit.

Even so, she wouldn't let that ruin her mood. She was finally out of the house and getting some fresh air and she was going to make the most of it.

She made her way down the street and entered the shop she saw earlier with the 75% off jegging sale. She saw the jegging last week when Ginny forced her to go shopping with her after their Sunday brunch and Ginny had practically forced her into a pair of the bright colored green pants.

Ginny was always complaining about how Hermione's look was too drab and no wonder she wasn't getting any dates recently because she wasn't giving men much to look at with her dark colors and baggy clothes.

That may sound harsh, but that was Hermione sugar coating it.

Ginny's exact words were, "I'm sorry Hermione but you need to hear this. This outfit of yours is appalling. I understand you were just visiting us, so you felt no need to dress up, but come on, even this is unacceptable. Your jumper is waaaay too baggy. The jeans are so washed out, even they look like they're about to run off your body, and I love your hair, but can you release it from the clutches of the tight bun you always have it in?"

A bit insensitive right?

But Hermione knew Ginny and she knew she had her best interest at heart. Plus she somewhat agreed with Ginny to some extent. She honestly didn't see what was wrong with her bun. She thought it was cute, but whatever. She'd since started wearing her hair out of its bun on certain occasions, like today.

Anyway, Ginny had dragged her out to the shops last week and virtually threw clothes at her. She'd actually found a couple of things she'd like that Ginny approved of and she settled for them. She had thought they were done when Ginny tugged her into this particular shop squealing about them having all the latest trends and "Do you know the celebrities that shop here?"

That should have been Hermione's first clue of what was in store but this was fashion. She was a bit naïve about these things.

Ginny had once again pushed her into the dressing room with a bunch of clothes, all of which were just not working in Hermione's opinion, and she was about to give up when Ginny came bolting into the fitting room with some green material thing in her hands.

"Oh my GOD Hermione you absolutely _must_ try these on! I think they would be perfect for you," Ginny insisted as she unraveled the material and produced a stretchy pant.

"Eww, what is that? And why is it that green?" Hermione made a face.

"What do you mean eww, this is _the_ jegging and it is the best thing in the world since…since…magic. In fact, I think a witch must have made this because it works like magic," Ginny retorted.

"But why is called a jegging though, do you mean leggings?"

Ginny sighed deeply. "There's so much you don't know about life, but right now is not the time. All you need to know is that they're pants that have a jean material that fit like a pair of leggings would, now get in there and try them on."

"Alright, but why green? It reminds me of Hogwarts and those nasty kids from Slytherin. Is there another color?"

"If by another color you mean black then no! Just trust me and try it on okay? I think it would look really good on you," Ginny whined.

That was a cue for Hermione to drop it. It wouldn't do well to argue with a whinny Ginny. It may rhyme but it certainly was not pleasant.

Hermione took the pants and went back in the room and tried it on. She'd been expecting a horrific reflection staring back at her, but actually…this wasn't so bad.

She turned around and got a glimpse of her bum and wow! Was that really her bum? Dear God, she looked good!

She showed Ginny the results and the girl had started smirking even before Hermione had opened the door completely. Suffice to say, she made plans to go home with those jeggings that day.

Until she saw the price tag.

They were 93 pounds. 93 pounds!

You know what she could do with that amount of money? She had dropped the pants so quick, you'd think she was scolded. Ginny of course had tried to reason and went on about how it would be an investment, but Hermione wasn't having any of it.

As she turned to leave though, the girl at the register called her back and whispered to her to come back later in the week because there would be a 75% off sale on all their jeans.

So here she was to claim those jeggings. A 75% off sale was so worth it for those pants, she determined as she worked the math out in her head. She quickly made her way to the women's section, past the mannequin wearing the same color jeggings she was on the hunt for.

She finally got to the racks and she surveyed it for her size.

Crap. Bugger. Damn it all to hell.

UGHHHH.

This was the third time she looked through this rack and her size was gone. They were out. She couldn't believe that they were out of size 8s.

Oh what the FU—

Wait, was that a 6 there? She picked up the last green pair in size 6 and pondered a bit. It wouldn't hurt to try it on, she decided.

She picked up the pants and located the nearest fitting room. It happened to be near the men's department, and she made her way to it, unknowingly passing by the men's Kenneth Cole Reaction section.

She was also completely oblivious to the pale blonde head, whose head snapped up as she walked past.

She didn't even notice the icy grey eyes that were boring a hole into the back of her head as she slipped into the fitting room.

**A/N: Another chapter is finished! I know there wasn't a real interaction in this chapter, but at least one person is aware of the other! I hope I didn't make you all wait too long for this. I'm aiming to have the next chapter up by the middle of next week, so don't fret! Again reviews are of course always welcome! I want to hear what you guys think about this so far! **

**Until next time. Dyearts**


	3. The Meeting

**A/N: Thanks everyone for all your reviews, follows, and favs. I thought people forgot about this story because I didn't update fast enough but you've all proved me wrong! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed (Vickifay, CescaHerondaleMorgenstern13**, **Quirkista, PhoenixEye10000, Euphoria123, unspeakable49, and Draco lover 91). Also, I usually PM people back after their review but if I missed anyone, do let me know! I love reading all your comments and all the ideas you have about where the story is going.**

**Here's chapter 3! Enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. End of story.

**Summary:** Hermione Granger is in a tight spot. She's just graduated uni after studying Journalism (whatever possessed her to do that!) She needs a job, and most importantly these jeggings that were once to die for will probably squeeze the life out of her if she doesn't remove them soon! Enter Draco Malfoy. Yes THE Draco Malfoy (As if there were any others?) The brilliant architect of Malfoy Industries. But wait, what do they have to do with each other? "And anyway, why would you stuff your flesh in clothing that looks like it's about to eat your ass Granger?" Hilariousness ensues.

* * *

_**Chapter 3: The Meeting**_

Not bad, Hermione thought as she got a glimpse of herself in the mirror. This was the third outfit she'd put together and tried on from the pile of Ginny approved clothes she'd recently gotten. She needed to look decent lest Ginny went on another rampage about how she tried so hard to help, but no one ever listened.

Today was Christmas and she would be visiting the Burrow for Christmas brunch. Come to think of it, why did the Weasleys always plan their gatherings around brunch? She made a mental note to ask Molly later as she placed her boots on. She got out a small duffle bag for her clothes and started packing some things inside. Following the Weasley's brunchfest, she'd join her parents later in the evening and spend the next couple of days at their house with the rest of her family. Christmas was a big deal in the Granger household and every year, it somehow always turned into a five day family reunion.

Aunts, cousins and nephews five times removed showed up to celebrate and for those five days, it was like living with the Weasleys all over again…except you know, everyone didn't have bright, shocking red hair.

She quickly cast a shrinking spell on the bag and chucked it in her purse. Walking over to the mantle by the fire place, she picked up some floo powder and walked in.

* * *

The Weasley household was oddly quiet for Christmas morning. She stepped out of the fireplace and looked around the sitting room. There was wrapping paper all over the floor signifying that the presents had been opened. So where was everybody then?

"Hello. Is anybody home?" Hermione called as she walked out the room into the hallway. As she neared the kitchen, she heard mumbled voices talking. She could see Molly by the stove speaking in hushed tones with Ginny.

"Ginny, I don't think your meddling is necessary though! She'll find someone when she's ready, so –"

"Ahem," Hermione cleared her throat so they would be aware of her presence.

The two Weasley women turned around and immediately stopped talking.

"Hermione, darling, you're here! Did you apparate or floo? We didn't hear you," Molly said.

"Oh, I flooed…I didn't mean to startle you."

"Of course not dear, why would you think that?" Molly sent a quick glance Ginny's way, who looked slightly affronted.

"No reason. Anyway Merry Christmas!" Hermione knew something else was going on, but decided to drop it. She'd harass Ginny about it later.

"Yes, Merry Christmas Hermione," Ginny finally spoke. "Did you get our presents?"

"Yes, I did. Thanks for the jumper by the way Molly. I love the colors you used for it. They're really quite lovely."

"It's nothing dear, you're family after all. Now both of you get out of here, I need to concentrate on making this pie. Go on, get out," Molly shooed them out.

"Alright mum, no need to be so violent," Ginny called back as she walked out with Hermione, up the stairs.

Hermione was quick to pounce on her.

"So what were you and your mum speaking about secretly?"

"Nothing." Hermione gave Ginny a quizzical look.

"Really? Nothing? Is that why you glued your lips together as soon as you saw me?" She glared at Ginny.

"You just shocked us was all. We didn't know anyone was still in the house right now besides us."

"Hmm. I'm sure. Well, where is everyone anyway? I walked into your sitting room and it looked like a tornado had hit the place and released wrapping paper everywhere and no one survived the attack."

"Yeah, they went out to play Christmas morning quidditch. Well actually, Teddy insisted we all went out to play—he got a broom and practically threw a tantrum when we said he was too young to play with it. I have no idea what Harry was thinking getting a six-year old boy a broom."

Hermione chuckled. "He's just showing Teddy some love…especially since Lupin and Tonks aren't here. You know what Harry went through because of his situation. He just sympathizes because he knows what it feels like."

"I know. I just hope he doesn't spoil our kids that much when they arrive. I won't have a snobby little child like...Malfoy!"

"Hahahaha! I doubt you guys could ever raise a kid as foul as Malfoy," Hermione answered. She placed her purse down in Ginny's room and they proceeded to walk to the field where the family was playing.

"Anyway, speaking of kids, am I right to say you and Harry are planning some of your own soon?"

Ginny pretended to gag. "Eww Hermione, get your mind out of the gutter. Harry and I haven't even slept together yet. You know all we do is hold hands!"

"Right. So that one time I walked in on you both last summer, that wasn't his hands in your bra and it most certainly wasn't your hand in his pants?" Hermione retorted.

"Of course not!" Ginny laughed.

When she stopped laughing, she got quiet for awhile.

"Actually, Hermione there's something I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh God. This sounds serious. You never want to just "talk"." When Ginny didn't say anything, Hermione egged her on.

"Well, what is it? Does it have to do with what you and your mum were whispering about?

Ginny nodded.

"Please don't tell me you set me up on another blind date again?"

"..."

"Ginny! I told you I don't need your help there. I can find-"

"Someone by yourself," Ginny finished. "Yes, I know, but here's the thing. I want you to be happy. We all want you to be happy."

"And who says I'm not happy?"

"No one, but everyone of our friends has someone special and they're planning families, buying houses and stuff and I want that for you too. I know you can get on by yourself, but you by yourself won't keep you warm and cozy at night. I mean Merlin Hermione, you can't wrap your own arms around your waist while you're sleeping!"

"What? Ginny, what are you on about?"

"My point is, having someone else there—that's not your friends—who you know you can come home to, and won't judge you for all your weird tendencies—let's face it, you have a lot—isn't such a bad thing."

Hermione looked at Ginny. She understood what the girl was saying and it wasn't like she wasn't actively looking for a male counterpart. It's just that, no one interested her that way. She didn't think she had such high standards but the guys of today were just on another level she wasn't sure she liked.

Hermione also wasn't one to be superficial or anything but she found that a lot of the nice guys she went out with didn't necessarily attract her. The really good looking ones on the other hand, were almost always douche bags.

There were some guys who were able to get a couple of dates with her though, but they never lasted too long. There was always something about them that sent Hermione sprinting away. One guy had such bad corns on his toes, she was surprised the vegetable wasn't popping out anywhere…but he looked so handsome.

There was another guy who wasn't so handsome, he was actually a bit of a geek if she had to be honest, but Hermione thought he was nice. Plus, they could carry out lots of intelligent conversations.

For some reason or another though, this guy thought he was some kind of an irresistible Don Juan and was constantly trying to hit on girls, you know in his own weird awkward way. The icing on the cake was when she was on a date with him once and after coming back from the bathroom, he brought another girl over and asked her if she'd be interested in a threesome.

See what she was up against with these guys?

She had come to the conclusion that maybe it was something she was doing. Maybe she was just attracting the wrong guys.

She groaned. Maybe it was time she took Ginny up on her blind date propositions. Ginny was her friend after all and she knew what she liked. Perhaps it wouldn't be such a bad idea to get set up by her.

"Alright, who is this guy? But I'll have you know that if he has corns on his feet, I will _not_ be staying to help him pick them out!"

Ginny's eyes widened. "Are you seriously interested or are you just pulling my leg?"

"What do you think?"

"Okay well, he's actually a quidditich player. Don't make that face before you let me finish!" "I met him while my team was playing that charity game in Islington, and he seemed pretty nice. He actually brought your name up and asked how you were since no one had really seen you in the wizarding world for a while."

"So you told him, I was desperate for a man and would shack up with anyone who knew who Hermione Granger was?"

"No! I told him about your travels and university and he was even more interested. Apparently he did a stint at university but had to leave since he was picked up by the Chuddley Cannons. He said he'd really like to meet you though and I said I'd see what I could do."

Hermione stayed quiet.

"He's a really nice guy and he seems smart too. Come on Hermione, will you go? Please do it? Do it for your lovely friend who just wants the best for you."

"When is it?"

"I could set something up for New Years, since you don't do much for that. Is that alright?"

"Fine."

"You'll seriously love him Hermione. Trust me!"

"I hope you're right. I'm only giving you the benefit of the doubt because you were right about those green jeggings or whats-its. They did look good."

"OH!, Did you go back for them?"

"Yeah, but they were out of my size, so I got the 6 instead. They were a lot tighter than I thought they would be, but I thought once I wore them, they would stretch. They should stretch right?"

"Yeah they should. Depends on how much spandex is in them."

"Hmm. Maybe I'll wear them to meet this Chuddley Cannons guy," Hermione thought out loud.

"Yes, please do that. Now come on, I'm missing the game. I hope they haven't released the bludgers yet. I need to get Ron back for opening his big mouth."

"What did he do now?" Hermione inquired.

"He walked in on Harry and me, and almost let dad know that our relationship isn't as kosher as he likes to think."

"Well here's a thought Ginny, maybe you should just start locking your door."

* * *

It was Christmas and Draco was locked in his office. He'd made sure that no one could get in and even casted spells so his mum couldn't apparate in.

He loved and respected his mum but sometimes, she could be too much.

What kind of parent lures their son from bed on Christmas with a lovely breakfast only to ruin it by mentioning marriage and all that?

Like hell he was getting married! He was only 24. He had time to do that.

Right now, he really wanted to concentrate on his company and the new direction, he wanted them to head in.

He didn't have time for a wife. And children?

Oh Merlin, the room was spinning. Oh, he was about to be sick.

He dropped his pen in the midst of signing the new budget for the upcoming year and shut his eyes as he leaned back in his chair.

What made his mother think he even wanted to get married and have _kids_?

Crap. His breakfast almost came back up that time just thinking about that vile word. He shivered.

Kids and Draco Malfoy did not belong in the same sentence. Unless of course they involved Malfoy Industries and a butt load of galleons.

Didn't his mum know that someone like him should never procreate?

It was just wrong. On so many levels.

Of course it was cute for other people to have kids. Like Pansy and Nott. Their children were cute. But that was also because he only saw them every other month or so. He only got to see the good side of them when they were on their best behavior because they obviously wanted some presents from him.

A child of his own though was an entirely different matter. He'd have to wake up and see the kid, and go back home and see the kid. No. That wouldn't do.

Plus, how would he be able to bring the next girl of the week home with a baby sleeping in a cot and his wife on the bed?

It just wouldn't work.

He'd tried to tell his mother that too, but she just got irate and yelled that he needed to settle down and stop messing around with random girls.

"You are a Malfoy, Draco, and you need to produce the next heir. You will _not_ be the last Malfoy heir or Merlin help you, you will find yourself in a situation you won't like!"

Those were her exact words and he'd been a bit rattled. The look in her eyes screamed anything but the situation being a joke.

He knew she was serious and that's what he was afraid of. Soon his mum would start forcing him on dates and planning arranged marriages and that just did not bode well for anybody.

He needed a way out of this mess before his mum got all serious and made his life a living hell.

Malfoys were dangerous when they set out to make other people's lives a living hell. It never ended well.

Just look at his dad and Voldemort.

* * *

Bun? Or no bun?

Hermione looked at herself in the mirror again and decided for the fiftieth time to take her bun down.

She was getting ready for her date with Chuddley Cannons guy, whose name she found out was Carwyn Allington. He sounded like a nice enough bloke, after Ginny told her more about him.

Who knows, maybe they would hit it off and they'd end up getting married and they'd save house elves together…or whatever.

She combed her hair out of its bun and let her curly locks cascade past her shoulders.

Ginny was right. Her hair did look good down.

She found a double strap hair band in her accessories box and slipped it on.

She looked at herself in the mirror one last time, before shuffling over to her bed and picking up her purse.

God, these pants were really tight. She'd been wearing them for over an hour and she'd thought they would have stretched out by now. She probably needed to wear them longer to break them in since they weren't her real size.

They really needed to stretch faster though because they were suffocating her. As it was, she could barely breathe since the pants squeezed her stomach in and her hips felt like they would pop out of them anytime soon.

The only reason she still had them on was because they made her legs look good and she was sure that as the night progressed, the material would gradually relax around her frame.

Even still, she could barely bend down though. She'd tried picking up one of her earrings when it fell twenty minutes ago, and she could swear she'd heard a tear somewhere, so she quickly got back up.

Getting that earring off the floor after had been a total disaster. It ended with her lying on the bed reaching for the blasted thing. When she finally got it, she looked like she'd just been in a fight with the Hungarian Horntail dragon.

After one last mirror check, she grabbed her wand, slipped on her pea coat and turned out her lights as she apparated to a street near the Leaky Cauldron.

* * *

'What a dumbass' Draco thought as he walked past a bloke slurring his words as he spoke to a rubbish bin.

It was only 4 something in the afternoon. That man had no excuse to be that drunk.

Just because it was New Years did not mean that every alcoholic beverage ever known to man had to be consumed.

Well, unless he had a mother like Draco's, who was throwing out not too subtle hints that her son needed to get married soon or face the consequences and never be able to have a sexual encounter again.

**Ever.**

In that case, the poor lad could drink on.

Draco himself wasn't drunk, but was strolling down the streets, walking towards getting drunk.

He was trying to get to the Leaky Cauldron and—actually, where the hell was he?

Bullocks. He'd missed the pub while he was deep in thought.

He turned back around and walked down two more streets. Shit. He had no idea where he was anymore.

Surely, it has to be somewhere around here. Goddamnit, he needed his drink, and he would get it today!

Draco abruptly spun back around and as he turned the corner, he collided with something—hard.

"OW! What the FUCK!" Draco exclaimed as he grabbed his chin, where the other person's head had attacked him.

"Have you ever thought to watch where the hell you're going," he yelled as he looked up to confront his attacker before realizing the person was nowhere to be seen.

"Where the fu—", Draco stopped as he saw something with curly hair covering a face, lying in a heap on the floor.

The person was grabbing its head as he/she groaned in pain.

He took in the appearance. Tight bright green pants… Oh! Were those the pants he saw on that mannequin that one time? Sweet pygmy puffs, it was a woman.

He supposed the hair should have given it away, but this was muggle London after all. You could never be too sure which gender you were potentially about to hit on.

Draco turned on his charm and kneeled down. "I didn't see you. I was in a rush," he said in his deepest sexiest manly voice.

"Oh it's quite alright," the woman said as she lifted her head, with hands still clamped around her forehead. "I was in a bit of a rush too. I had a—"

She stopped talking as she got a good look at exactly who she was speaking to.

"Wait—what the—HUH?" she stuttered as she looked into icy grey eyes and rubbed her own eyes to make sure it wasn't a trick—or a concussion.

"GRANGER?" Draco spat out in disbelief.

"YOU!" She raised her voice in astonishment.

* * *

**A/N: And so ends chapter 3! Our two characters finally meet! I hope you enjoyed their little encounter and this chapter of course. I was mostly done with the chapter earlier, but then I got distracted and didn't get to finish this last scene. Anyway I hope you like it. The next chapter should be up by next week as well so stay tuned for that. In the meantime, savor the little Dramione action. Let me know what you think please and leave a review!**

**Thanks for reading,**

**Dyearts**


	4. The Bottom Flasher

**A/N: Thanks everyone for your continued interest! This update is long overdue! I had to go back to school after break, and it was my last semester and you know. Plus the entire left side of my laptop keyboard is no longer working. Let's just say I was watching a hilarious video one day with an open bottle of water next to my hand and well, you can imagine the rest. I'm getting another one soon but in the meantime, it's partial onscreen keyboard for now. Anyway I'll still try and update every week so don't fret yet! Thanks again to everyone who reviewed and kept an interest I this story.**

**Enjoy chapter 4!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. End of story.

**Summary:** Hermione Granger is in a tight spot. She's just graduated uni after studying Journalism (whatever possessed her to do that!) She needs a job, and most importantly these jeggings that were once to die for will probably squeeze the life out of her if she doesn't remove them soon! Enter Draco Malfoy. Yes THE Draco Malfoy (As if there were any others?) The brilliant architect of Malfoy Industries. But wait, what do they have to do with each other? "And anyway, why would you stuff your flesh in clothing that looks like it's about to eat your ass Granger?" Hilariousness ensues.

_**Chapter 4: The Bottom Flasher **_

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?" Draco barked at Hermione as he snatched his hand away from where he was about to reach for hers. He couldn't believe he almost touched Granger! God what was wrong with the world? Wait maybe this was a sign that the end was near or something.

Draco quickly swept his eyes over his surroundings.

Well the street still looked intact.

And there weren't any fireballs falling from the sky.

And the ground had yet to swallow them up, so maybe he exaggerated a little.

"What do you mean what am I doing here? I have just as much a right as you to be here! In fact what are you even doing here?" Hermione retaliated back.

"You do know this is _muggle_ London right?" she placed extra emphasis on muggle just in case he was too dense to realize where he was. Actually what was he doing here? This was Draco Malfoy, former Death Eater. Son of a Death Eater, who coincidentally also annoyed the shit out of her at Hogwarts. The same one who seemed to love hurling the "m" word at her every chance he got. Honestly, what was he doing here? In muggle London?...Oh. Merlin. No.

Hermione's mind went into overdrive dreaming up countless scenarios of why Draco Malfoy could possibly be here. Like on the street. Near a car. And multiple muggle things like that lamp post over there and that motorcycle. She really hoped this whole situation wasn't part of a devious plan…like reviving Voldemort or something.

She didn't think she had anymore fight left in her to run after those idiot death eaters again. That was exhausting enough the first time.

"Yes I know this is muggle London. I'm not an idiot Granger, do not treat me as such," Draco snapped at her, as he got up from kneeling.

Hermione started to get up, but as she lifted her knees, there was a loud tear.

Merlin's stockings this could not be happening right now.

NO. NO. NO.

FUCKING HELL!

NO.

JUST NO.

Her pants were ripped.

And Draco Malfoy was right in front of her.

Please don't ask. Please don't ask. Please don-

"What was that? Granger, did that just come from you? It just sounded lik—"

"I'm sure it was nothing," she said as she started lifting herself up slowly. She had her back to him, so he couldn't see anything. Now she just needed him to leave and stop talking to her so she could apparate away or something.

"Well, I would say this was a pleasure. But it wasn't, so I hope this never happens again," she said and made to step out of the way, but Draco grabbed her upper arm.

"Granger, it sounded liked something just ripped in half…or you possibly let out a loud gaseous noise," he said as he wrinkled his noise as if sniffing something unpleasant. "I know it wasn't me, so it must be you. What was it? I've never heard flatulence sound like that so I doubt that was it…but then again you are so terribly muggle… " he trailed off looking at her for an answer.

God, why was this asshole so hell bent on making her life a living hell? She hadn't seen him in six years and he was still tormenting her. And about having gas in public no less!

"I said it's nothing," she returned barely above a whisper as her face started turning that violent shade of red.

"Now would you release my arm before you start the third wizarding war?" she finished with a deadly glare.

"Unclench your knickers from the twist they're clearly in," Draco threw back with a smirk as he released her arm and Hermione's face became a vivid beet red. Malfoy meant the comment as an insult but little did he know just how much of a twist her knickers were in. It seemed when her pants ripped, her knickers decided to add to the discomfort by bunching up and giving her a ridiculous wedgie. To add to the discomfort, the cold January air was creeping its way into the newly formed opening on her backside. Oh this day could not get any worse!

"Alright Granger let's cut this super fun meeting short shall we? Run along. Off you go," he commanded sarcastically as he still stood in front of her and made no attempt to move.

"Can you move out of my way then?" Hermione said with a sigh.

"Actually, you're in my way. You see, you're preventing me from continuing on my journey as you and your mass seem to be permanently parked right in front of me," he said.

Merlin's soggy balls. Was he serious?

There was enough space on either side of them for him to walk away but he was standing there claiming she was blocking his way? And with her mass? This arrogant, useless, sodding excuse of space!

"Malfoy-" she opened her mouth to retaliate but stopped. If she indulged him, she would never leave here and she'd most likely get frost bite on her ass.

She decided to just step out of his way. She would turn around as she started walking away, so he couldn't catch a glimpse of her bare butt cheek even if he turned, and she could apparate quickly.

"You know what? Forget it. I'll leave," she finished and she stepped to his left, but as she took a step forward and attempted to turn before Malfoy could get a shocking view of anything, she felt his arm grab her shoulder, locking her in place and preventing her from turning around.

Now she had her back (and bare bottom) facing him.

Oh good lord in heaven.

"Not even a good-bye, Grang-" he started to say as he turned around and caught a view of her peacoat…and wait, what was that peaking out of her jeans?

Oh dear God, was that Granger's bum?

It all came together as the puzzle was completed in his head.

The rip. Her bum. The rip. Her bum. The rip, her bu-

Before Draco had time to finish that thought, he saw a crème fist coming towards his face, and the next thing he knew, he was falling backwards towards the ground.

The last thing he remembered was seeing Granger turn clutching a hand on her backside as she disappeared in thin air.

He was also pretty sure his nose would be broken when he woke up.

You know, whenever that was.

* * *

"UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" Hermione screamed out loud as she collapsed on her couch.

Why?

Why her?

Of all the people in the world to get a rip in their pants and accidentally flash a bum, why did it have to be her?

More importantly, why him?

Of all the people in the world to run into while she had a rip in her pants, why did it have to be Draco bloody Malfoy.

Why did he have to be walking on the same street as her when that happened?

In fact why was he even alive at all?

Last she heard, he was busy building an empire of some sort because apparently, daddy's money hadn't quite dried up yet. Of course she just as well ruled him off as dead. As the saying goes, out of sight, out of mind, and he had been nowhere near her sights and was definitely out of her mind.

Well at least until today. Which brought her back to this current situation.

Draco Malfoy had seen her bum.

I mean he must have. There was no way he couldn't have. Her pants had ripped bigger than she first anticipated, enough to expose a view of her left butt cheek which wasn't covered because of that stupid wedgie.

Hermione left out a large grunt and tried to calm down.

Maybe he wouldn't even remember it and if she were lucky, maybe that punch she threw at his face would have knocked the memory out of him, so he would have no recollection of having even met her on the street.

He had also fallen down hard on the ground so hopefully he had some sort of concussion.

Even as Hermione realized that the thought was terrible, she desperately hoped it was true. She had left as soon as she saw him fall to the ground and she wasn't going to stick around so he could catch a second act of her rouge bum.

He was probably fine and was just faking his fall anyway she thought to herself as she realized she may have potentially committed a felony.

Reassuring herself that she probably did no such thing, she tried to calm down. That only lasted a couple of seconds though as the realization that Malfoy saw her bottom hit her full force again.

He would probably tell everyone he knew and embarrass her to no end. Soon she would be known as Hermione Granger, the bottom flasher.

Jesus freaking Christ.

As her mind went into overdrive for the second time that day, thinking of scenarios in which people started throwing underwear at her as she walked the streets, she realized something.

She would probably never even see that stupid douche again. Whatever rumour he did spread would probably be shot down anyway. The situation was so absurd, it couldn't seem real to anyone who heard. They'd probably think Malfoy was making it up.

Yes. That's right. She had the up hand in this situation.

If the rumor somehow did become widespread and anyone confronted her about it, she could just lie and say she hadn't seen Malfoy and wasn't even aware he was alive.

Okay so that last part was a bit much…everyone knew he owned Malfoy Industries and his stupid viewers (she had a serious intuition he stole the TV muggle's watched and passed it off as his own) were practically in every household (except the hers and the Weasleys of course), but she could still pretend she had yet to lay eyes on him since the war.

'This situation is looking up', she thought and got off the couch to change out of the blasted jeggings or whats-its that caused this unfortunate situation to begin with.

She strolled out of her living room and walked into her bedroom to pull off the offending green pants and perhaps burn them and bury their ashes, when a name popped into her head.

Carwyn Allington.

In all her hysteria, she'd forgotten about her blind date, who she'd worn the stupid jeggings for anyway. She totally stood him up. The poor bloke was probably at the Leaky Cauldron cursing her out.

She grabbed her head in her hands and heaved an even deeper grunt.

When did her life get to this point?

She was Hermione bloody Granger.

Pants don't rip on her, exposing her bum to annoying former school mates, and she most certainly never forgot dates…or anything for that matter.

She grabbed a quill and paper from her table and scrawled a note she planned on sending to Allington later on.

But first, she had a lot of explaining to do to Ginny Weasley. By now, the red head would probably know she'd never showed up on her date. She was sure Ginny was probably sitting somewhere in the Leaky Cauldron under some ridiculous disguise trying to keep an eye on how her date was going…either that or she got some unsuspecting assistant to do the dirty work for her.

Except Hermione had not actually appeared. She could see the rage in Ginny's eyes already and the accompanying lecture. She grabbed a handful of curly locks and pulled.

She was going to need some serious glasses of red wine for this one.

* * *

**A/N: Well, how was it? I know it was shorter than normal, but I really wanted to get a chapter out so no one would think I've abandoned this story. Plus semi-typing using the keyboard and onscreen keyboard is hard! I had no idea just how much I used the letters "w" and "d" but being unable to type normally with them has given me an appreciation! There's bound to be a missing letter in the story here or there, so if you see any, do let me know. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and reviews are always welcome! **

**Until next time. Dyearts**


	5. The Vagabond and His Stench

**A/N: Thanks everyone for your continued interest! I know I said I would update in a week, and I know I broke that promise but seriously, this keyboard business is no joke! Until I get my new laptop, expect updates to be a little slower…actually a lot slower. But I'll really try to write super fast and not get discouraged at the mere thought of having to battle this onscreen keyboard. Until then, I'm really, truly super sorry! **

**Enjoy and review chapter 5!**

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. End of story.

**Summary:** Hermione Granger is in a tight spot. She's just graduated uni after studying Journalism (whatever possessed her to do that!) She needs a job, and most importantly these jeggings that were once to die for will probably squeeze the life out of her if she doesn't remove them soon! Enter Draco Malfoy. Yes THE Draco Malfoy (As if there were any others?) The brilliant architect of Malfoy Industries. But wait, what do they have to do with each other? "And anyway, why would you stuff your flesh in clothing that looks like it's about to eat your ass Granger?" Hilariousness ensues.

_**Chapter 5: The Vagabond and His Stench**_

EWWWWW.

What was that putrid smell wafting into his nose?

It smelled like day old cheese and dirty socks—at least the stench he thought the retch inducing combination would smell like.

Coming to his senses, and trying extremely hard on not focusing on the rancid scent, he slowly opened his eyes.

As he did so, he turned his head slightly and discovered what a big mistake that was. A searing pain took over his senses and he yelled out in agony, slamming his eyes shut in the process.

He knew the culprit was coming from his face, and he couldn't even begin to fathom the damage his face had gone through to cause him such anguish.

He managed to eradicate the image of his discombobulated face from his mind when he reminded himself that the healers would take care of it. He was most likely at St. Mungos, and by now his doctor must have heard and was probably calling the best surgical nose doctor they had to come fix him.

He opened his eyes again, getting ready to drink in the VIP ward at St. Mungos with his eyes. He was expecting a massive room filled with well wishes and flowers strewn everywhere, but the view he saw almost gave him a heart attack.

He was looking up at a man whose face was covered in hair that Draco deduced hadn't been introduced to a razor in months and quite possibly, years.

AND OH GOD.

Those chin hairs were dangerously close to abrading his face.

Draco panicked and thrust his head back as far as it could go.

Unfortunately, that wasn't much, and he felt his head collide with hard cement.

As if to rub salt into his wounds (and possible gash most likely forming on the back of his head), he felt the man's unruly (for lack of a better term) chin hairs skim over his top lip.

At that moment, Draco resisted the urge to scream and felt bile rise up his throat.

Is this what hell feels like? Was he in hell right now?

Did Granger punch him so hard that he hit the ground and died and was now in hell feeling the repercussions of his past ills?

Dumbledoor's lemon drops. He should have listened to the Patron Saint Potter.

Apparently, karma was a bitch, and he would indeed suffer in hell for all the lives he made miserable.

But how was he supposed to know hell would entail his worst possible nightmares i.e. that his face would be broken and a grimy man would be pressed up on his person and invading his personal space?

"Yer alrigh' der?" A raspy voice breathed on his face.

Draco almost cried.

Hot, stinky air had just been blown on his face.

"I said yer alrigh—,"

"Peachy," Draco yelled out before the man could finish his sentence.

However rather than moving away, the man just stayed where he was and continued to look at Draco, searching for lord knows what on the young man's face. When the man still made no action to eradicate himself from Draco's premises, Draco forced himself to speak.

"Actually, do you-you know, mind lifting yourself off me?" Draco whispered, still with his eyes clamped shut.

"Oh righ'," the man said as he leaned back.

"But wha' did yer do to get attacked huh?" The man, who Draco was starting to piece together was a wanderer of many roads, said. "It looks like yer seriously twisted someone's knickers. Yer nose looks bloody foul…and actually yeah, it's quite bloody." The man finished as he gave him an empathetic look.

Well blimey O'Riley's trousers.

This man actually felt sorry for him.

This man that most likely had no home, no income, and was likely going to be digging through trash for his next meal, was pitying him. Him. Draco Malfoy!

Oh Granger was going to **pay** for this.

Draco ignored the man's question as he forced himself off the floor, shoving the pain he felt from his face to the back of his mind.

"And where do yer think yer going in tha' state?" The man asked.

"None of your concern!" Draco hissed and managed to dust himself off.

He started walking away out of sight so he could apparate to St. Mungos and get his nose situation sorted out but stopped and turned back to where the man was standing.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a ten-pound-note and handed it to the man before briskly walking away.

He normally wouldn't be caught supplying homeless men a portion of anything he had, but he had to show an ounce of gratitude to the poor vagabond.

The vagrant did wake him out of his slumber with his unfortunate smell.

If it weren't for him, Draco might still be lying on that God forsaken cement dreaming of flowers and rainbows.

But now he was awake.

Yes.

Now he could go mend his nose.

More importantly, now he could start plotting ways to make Hermione Granger's life a living hell.

Patron Saint Potter's life lessons be damned. They'd have to wait another day to get Draco to change his ways.

He was in a full raging choleric mode and that bushy head know-it-all was going to feel his wrath.

When he was done with her, she was going to rue the day she laid eyes on him.

Because hell hath no fury like a Draco scorned.

* * *

"How could you stand him up Hermione?!" Ginny practically yelled at her.

The fiery red-head was impatiently pacing around Hermione's living room as she made her point.

I'm sorry. As she almost bellowed her point.

Hermione herself was seated on her couch with her Santa mug filed with tea in her hands and she felt like a child who'd just been caught stealing and was being given a serious lecture.

"Have you any idea how excited Carwyn was to meet you?" Ginny continued pacing as she towered over Hermione, making her feel even smaller.

"You're so lucky, I decided to keep an eye on things and was there myself! I was able to come up with a half-ass lie about you falling sick and being adamant that you wanted to come, but had to be prevented so you wouldn't risk other people's well being." Ginny paused to flick a handful of red hair from her eyes. Having fits of rage did that to her from time to time.

"Luckily, he agreed to reschedule though, bless his heart," she continued before turning to face Hermione and sounding oddly like Mrs. Weasley reincarnated. "What have you got to say for yourself?"

At this, Ginny shot her a very stern, very disapproving glare, as if daring Hermione to speak.

"Well MOM," Hermione said pointedly, "A situation came up and rendered me unable to even remember I had a date, let alone show up for the said date."

"Oh and what pray tell was that situation?"

Sighing, Hermione prepared herself to relive the embarrassing tale she'd been trying to forget all over again.

"Well, you won't believe it, but while I was rushing to meet with Carwyn, I ran (literally) into Malfoy, and I honestly don't even want to think about the rest of the situation, or even tell it, so any chance I can stop telling it here?"

After a pause and a myriad of facial expressions, Ginny said, "What? Malfoy?"

"As in Draco Malfoy? Git extraordinaire?"

"The very one." Hermione nodded sadly.

"Well…what happened, and why does that factor into you missing your date?" Ginny pressed on.

Closing her eyes, Hermione took a deep breath and started reiterating the story.

"Because he ran into me, and knocked me to the ground, and when I made to get up, the jeggings or whats-its I was wearing ripped!"

"WHAT?!"

"Blimey Hermione, YOU RIPPED YOUR PANTS IN FRONT OF MALFOY?"

Hermione could only nod.

"That's not even the worst part Gin…"

"Merlin, there's more?"

Hermione paused for full affect, and plus she was having trouble letting her next words out.

"He saw my bum," Hermione finally murmured and hung her head.

Ginny actually sputtered.

No seriously, the girl was speechless.

In all her years of knowing Ginny Weasley, Hermione had never known the girl to be thunderstruck .

But here Ginny Weasley was fixed in her living room with her mouth opening and closing and at a loss for words.

Speaking of which, she would need to collect ten quid from Ron now. They'd both been placing bets on when (if ever) they would see the latter's sister gobsmacked, and Hermione was proud to say she just won that wager.

When Ginny finally pulled herself together, she sat down abruptly next to Hermione effectively pulling Hermione's thoughts away from her recent victory.

"What did you do then?" Ginny inquired.

"The only thing I could do then," Hermione answered.

"I punched him in his face, ran and apparated away."

* * *

Draco sat behind his emaculate desk with both hands crossed and lounging on the files he'd just received.

Today marked a week and two days after that calamitous run-in with the heir of Medusa and he had yet to avenge himself.

Part of the reason for that was because he'd been waiting to get the results back from the private investigator he hired to find out every little detail he could about Hermione Granger.

Apparently muggle services included being able to pay someone to spy on another person without the financier having to do the dirty work.

Well, his P.I. had just brought him the file on she-he-loathed-to-name and Granger was in for a world of hurt.

Um…once he figured out exactly how to hurt her.

It wasn't that he didn't know how to get her back, believe Draco, he knew and could very well carry out unfathomable ways to ensure Granger received her comeuppance. It was just that he needed to get her back in a less than criminal way. He was still under ministry scrutiny and could not risk his life and company on payback to that horrendous creature.

Which brings him to the other reason he'd yet to retaliate.

He wasn't exactly sure how to serve her her retribution without ending up in Azkaban.

Draco hated to bring it up, but these were things a father should teach his son how to do.

His however was too busy actually killing people rather than bothering to take up his fatherly duties.

Draco sighed and scratched his chin.

It wasn't even like he could blackmail her for anything (The one thing his father did teach him how to do). She had nothing he desired and nothing to be desired.

However even as he processed the thought, a light bulb went off in his head.

That was it.

Coercion was the way to go!

How could he have not realized it before? It was so simple.

What better way to get back at the bookworm than extortion?!

Yes, he knew extortion was punishable in the muggle and wizarding world, but even better still was that he could do it in such a way that he could prove he was guilty of no such thing.

Thank Merlin for his fantastic brain!

He could make her do whatever he wanted and her nonsensical Gryffindor pride would be bruised.

No.

It would be beyond bruised.

Demolished was the word.

The best part was it would be her senseless pride that would let her get blackmailed in the first place.

If there was one thing anyone knew about Granger, it was that beyond being prideful, she hated getting embarrassed.

The sense of mortification she got from being made to feel stupid and self-conscious was immense.

And what better way to exploit that than to use her own body against her?

Oh this was going to be good.

And he had the perfect plan to execute it all.

He closed his eyes in order to conjure up the image of her pasty flesh.

Yes, his mind burned, but sometimes you had to sacrifice your happiness for revenge.

Once he was sure the image was fresh in his mind, he reached for his wand and walked across his office to open one of his cabinets.

Draco pulled out a stainless steel pensieve and proceeded to extract the memory from his mind.

Before allowing himself to get sucked into the bowl, he rummaged through another cabinet for his wizarding camera.

He blew the dust off the item he had yet to use in years and put his wand in the pocket of his trouser leg.

As he place the camera around his neck, he was tempted to let out an evil laugh—one that would rival Voldemort's or any evil-doer in fact.

After all, he who laughs last, laughs the hardest.

Or in this case ruined Hermione Granger's life.

He didn't want to toot his own horn, but Draco Malfoy was a bloody freaking genius.

**A/N: Chapter five is done…and it only took me more than a month to get it done! I was really debating on ending the chapter earlier than where I did, but then I thought of all you faithful readers! In all seriousness though, I really am sorry for the slow updates, and I'll try my best to be faster about it.**

**Well now that this chapter is over, I really want to know what you guys think, so drop me a line or 50 after reading this because reviews are always welcome! They let me know if people are actually enjoying this and what I can improve on, so don't be shy!**

**Until next time. Dyearts**


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